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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27247831">Dinner Theatre</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broken_Clover/pseuds/Broken_Clover'>Broken_Clover</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Guilty Gear</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Parasites, Psychological Torture, regular torture</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:54:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,877</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27247831</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broken_Clover/pseuds/Broken_Clover</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Squirming. Squirming. Squirming.</p><p>Or, Eddie discovers the joys of having a new host.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dinner Theatre</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>“WHAT AN EXCELLENT ATHLETIC ABILITY. YOU WILL BE A GREAT CANDIDATE.”</i>
</p><p>The feeling of slipping free from dead flesh was liberating. Eddie had been so used to feeling the strain of dragging along a rotting corpse that he’d nearly found it normal. He so eagerly awaited the day when he could shed off the shell-like carcass in favor of fresh, warm meat.</p><p>He had hoped to have been able to make a more thorough decision in the moment of it, but he simply lacked enough time for deliberation. Eddie had a few potential candidates he’d mulled over, debating which had the most uses versus disadvantages. A large frame meant more defense, but was also heavier and more difficult to lug around. Smaller bodies were more fragile but easier to bury in his body for safekeeping, and opened the possibility of him experiencing a host grow with time. This one seemed passable, at least. Somewhere middling. But, Eddie reminded himself, it was better than dying.</p><p>The man certainly reminded him a fair bit of Zato- blonde, poorly dressed, and rather stupid. Their fight hadn’t even been much of a fight. As light as he was on his feet, Eddie was faster, and had the ability to attack from unexpected angles. They would make such a beautiful unity once they were in the same body.</p><p>It was like a hermit crab replacing its old, worn shell. The moment of vulnerability was indeed harrowing, but all it truly meant was that he was moving onto bigger, better things. Eddie was eager, but he tried to savor the moment, nonetheless. Such a relief. All his struggles were finally over.</p><p>His new host was still unconscious from the fight, but Eddie still felt him twitch as he invaded every orifice. The Beast had to remind himself not to choke the human with a flood of tarry black running down his throat- then he’d just be in the exact same position, just with a slightly fresher corpse. He seeped into skin, tissue, bone, permeating every square centimeter he could spider against, claiming it as his own.</p><p>He felt something grow tense and snap. Curious, Eddie set about his new body, prodding along the innards with filament tentacles to find any oddity. He couldn’t have any major concerns right out of the gate with a new host! What unfortunate luck that would be.</p><p>Ah. There was the issue. The smooth fans of tissue across the larynx had been ripped by his entrance, right into fleshy pink threads. A sacrifice made for hosting a Forbidden Beast. Well, he didn’t find that too concerning. Eddie had his own throat, his own voice. He didn’t need to borrow the host’s.</p><p>Besides, he couldn’t waste time lingering on the little details. He still had work to do.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>++++++</p>
</div>Millia hadn’t been expecting him. She never would have anticipated he had managed to find a new body. Truthfully, he hadn’t, either. But shocking her was delightful fun. Remarkably simple, too. All he’d had to do was turn his new host in her direction and let them bump into each other.<p>“Oh hey there, beautiful!” He said, speaking with the fake throat he didn’t even know he had, the one Eddie had let him borrow. How curious, did the two of them know each other? “I just know I wouldn’t forget a face like that! If I buy ya a drink, will ya tell me your name, too?”</p><p>Ah. Casanova. He really was like Zato. How pathetic.</p><p>“I’m busy, nor am I interested, so can you please just- w-wait, your shadow...ZATO?!”</p><p>Perhaps killing her was excessive. He no longer cared. His existence was no longer tied to Zato. There was no attachment to her, only regrets. He did not want to have any regrets tethering him to his old life anymore. </p><p>The snooker boy was even less trouble than Millia. Couldn’t even put up a good fight before Eddie had him cornered. It would have been more troublesome to leave him alive than it was for Millia. She had been trying to run away from the Guild, while he had fought tooth and nail to drag him back to rule it once again. Maybe Eddie could consider it merciful. He knew a life of desperation and pursuit was an agonizing one. Perhaps, in a way, they had been kindred spirits. Not much point in reflecting on it now, though.</p><p>Once he was finished with killing, it was time for him to enjoy being alive.</p><p>Well, alive as a parasite could be. Eddie was no fool. Powerful as he was, he still needed a host to feed off of. A host that could use him for their own purposes, no matter how they clashed. He had wasted so much time grappling against Zato, then toting around his body, it had given him time to think. And Eddie finally knew what he needed: A host that didn’t think.</p><p>It was a new rationale of his- he was a remarkably logical and astute individual at his core, it was how creatures like him managed to survive. If a dead host decayed and rotted with him still trapped in their husk, and a living host abused him so, then the ideal solution would be to hold onto a living host, but reduce their decision-making ability as much as possible. On paper, it would have been so easy so slither up into the cranial cavity and snip away at the lobes until it was satisfactory, but humans, stupid as they were, still managed to have a few tricks. They’d built Beasts like him with a handful of failsaves, not enough to truly save them from the detrimental effects but enough to keep a parasite from immediately slaughtering its host. Any time he got remotely close to shearing away some gray matter, something would hold him back like an iron vise until he retreated back elsewhere to sulk, like a snake after an unsuccessful hunt.</p><p>But Eddie made it very clear where their dynamic stood. If the man had more willpower, and a lot more practice, he would probably have been able to exert full control over his parasite. But in the state they were in, it was a constant game of cat-and-mouse. Eddie could move freely of his own accord, but he was ultimately stuck to his new host, and could only go so far unless he smashed his host’s legs and dragged his body along as he writhed in protest.</p><p>Which he did. Gladly.</p><p>The idea of tormenting a host that couldn’t speak sounded so dull in concept, but the shadow quickly found himself addicted. It wasn’t necessarily the screams that satisfied him- it was the <i>reactions</i>. <i>Sensations</i>. How he could feel his own body and his host’s at the same time. The ways the endocrine system would squirt chemicals into the bloodstream and whip it all up into a delicious cocktail of pain and fear and unease. </p><p>And it was just <i>so</i> easy, he barely had to put in any effort at all. Even in just moving around inside, his host writhed in protest. He clawed at his belly pitifully while Eddie slithered around every curve and ridge of his guts, as though it would have any real effect. Even if he did muster the courage to jam one of his own sickles into his ribcage, Eddie could just sew the skin back up in moments, as though it had never happened at all. It was <i>his</i> flesh now, and he could do as he pleased.</p><p>Nonetheless, there was still a feistiness to be quashed. He could see it in the human’s eyes. He didn’t have delusions of grandeur, but he was intent on holding onto his humanity, fighting off however he could. It took a great amount of effort to take control of his body, and most of the time Eddie was just better off breaking a limb or two rather than do yet another tug-of-war. And yet, he still found a bit of excitement to it. The thrill of it all. The relief of finally wresting control away, giving him the freedom to do what he pleased as he paraded his new meat puppet around until he either gave up or managed to be thrown off of the reins.</p><p>And he <i>gorged,</i> as all good parasites did, devoured anything he possibly could, even if it was just to be aware of how revolting it was. Food was something still so new to him, so fresh and interesting. A million new experiences to be had in a million different things. Exotic foods. Cheap, greasy things from cornerstore shops. Foods so spicy and hot it left open sores. Lighter fluid. Window cleaner. Batteries. Dirt. Rat poison. He savored the moments in which he had conscious control over the body, in order to feel his innards twist and burn in agony at what they had been forced to process, a delightful misery that Eddie felt all-too-happy to engage in.</p><p>Other times, he kept his host awake under thick black cables, wrenching the man’s mouth open and inching a handful of carpenter’s nails or a scoop of battery acid towards it at a snail’s pace to meticulously watch how a human’s body manifested fear in the dilated eyes, muscle stiffness, sharp movements, tears, raggedy screams that could only come out as a whisper, no matter how hard he tried- all very fascinating. Sometimes he would shovel it down his gullet, or pull away at the last moment, or pull away as a taunt before forcing it down anyway.</p><p>He just adored the way his host grew timid and paranoid from all his machinations. It was a gradual progression, but Eddie still took note of every little quirk, the corpselike paleness, the brittleness of his nails, the way his ribs pressed against the inside of his skin. </p><p>But that also meant it was time for him to take a break. Poison and tacks were replaced with lukewarm soup, and violent confinement with gentle touches. His host would be confused at first, unsure of how to handle the sudden shift. With enough prompting, he would eventually let his guard down, letting Eddie care for him.</p><p>And as soon as his host became comfortable, back came the torment.</p><p>It was fun playing games. No matter how diligent he was, there was always a point when the man was willing to trust him again. Eddie was a patient thing, and he was more than happy to wait until he got the response he wanted. He would take a break every so often, treating the man with care until a healthy pallor came back, only to switch immediately after and push him back to the brink. Back and forth and back and forth and back. That rebellious little flame flickered and waned, unsure and skittish of what all of his shadow’s movements meant. Eddie was unreadable and unpredictable, but one thing was always certain: he was always just within arm’s reach, never fully safe from the idea of more agony.</p><p>Eddie was happy where he was. Even if he wasn’t quite there, he knew with enough patience and persistence, he would find a way to make his host finally break.</p>
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